


Jeu de Mots

by Ruenis, synastry



Category: Aldnoah.Zero (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-02-18 01:25:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13089522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruenis/pseuds/Ruenis, https://archiveofourown.org/users/synastry/pseuds/synastry
Summary: Simply a play on words.





	1. Chapter 1

“ _Enjoy your vacation!”_

That had been the last thing Slaine messaged him before resuming whatever work he does - Inaho remembers it has to do with mostly selling older books, as he has placed several orders himself, and quite a few in bulk.

What else Slaine does with them, however, does not come to mind at the moment. Had they ever discussed it, in detail? Perhaps it was mentioned offhandedly at one point, and then quickly forgotten in conversation.

Either way, they have not spoken since then. It has only been two days, leaving Inaho plenty of time to pack and prepare for his small trip. They had been apprehensive at first, his friends - where he is going, he will be mostly alone, though the area will be quite small and probably peaceful. Yuki had been encouraging, insisting that this vacation would be helpful in the long term, even if Inaho had chosen to go somewhere relatively unknown.

Thus, Inaho remains quiet as he adjusts the collar to his rain jacket, almost ready to head out and start the few hour drive.

“It’s gonna be colder out in the middle of nowhere, y’know,” a teasing voice says, drawing him away from his thoughts.

Sparing his blond friend a glance, Inaho feels the smallest of frowns on his features.

Teasing or not, talking ill about the weather when it is already _freezing_ outside will not do any good. It has been raining small pinpricks of ice and snow that does not quite stick to the ground yet, making everything a horrible, dangerous cold slush.

Calm _may_ have a point; with not as many buildings or people to contribute heat and snuff out the cold, it could very well indeed be colder there, but Inaho does not want to consider that possibility at the moment, not when he has already made up his mind.

The blond only snickers, shaking his head a bit.

Inaho’s rain jacket is a bright shade of orange, and the slight shine to the material does not do it any good; slick with rain, it will only make him stand out further in the crowd, though it has done wonders whenever they almost misplace him amongst the students at their university.

Keyword being _almost_. They never quite lose him completely, not when he is wearing _that_.

“You’re lucky the snow hasn’t stuck to the ground, yet. It’s still slush,” Calm points out, glancing toward Inaho’s shoes, which are also the same shade of orange.

Catching his eye, Inaho follows his gaze, and recalls what his friends had mentioned before about this particular outfit. “I’m not changing,” he murmurs.

“You look like a kid though,” Calm points out, “And, y’know, the fact that you’re small doesn’t really help…”

Inaho remains quiet at the comment, shaking his head a bit - _it doesn’t really matter what people think if it’s practical._

“Hey, remember when you slipped and fell coming out of the lab last week?” he asks, and Inaho’s frown deepens just the slightest bit at the question.

“No,” is the response, a lie.

“You don’t remember when you slipped and almost broke your nose on the concrete?”

Inaho remains quiet at that question, finally settling on keeping his collar propped up, to shield his neck even just a bit from the cold. Wearing a scarf might be a good idea, but with all the rain, getting it wet will only make it heavy and smell of damp wool. It would be uncomfortable and unpleasant to deal with during his few hour drive. A hat, too, has to be foregone in favor of his hood while he takes his luggage to the car. “I think I’m ready,” he says, shifting the subject, “You said you’d help me.” He starts to walk away, toward the front door where there are four bags of luggage. Clothing resides in two of them: heavy jackets, pants, socks, sweaters, scarves and woollen caps… Yuki had helped him pack before going off to work, taking care to pick his most warmest attire.

The other bags contain another pair of shoes and an extra blanket and pillow, as well as his tablet and its charger. His most personal belongings are in his jacket pockets, on the inside - his phone, wallet, the phone charger… Packing away the phone with the luggage would have been a mistake, had Yuki or Inko called him on the way there.

“I will, I will,” Calm murmurs, quickly following after him.

The rain is still tapping away at the roof outside, and it grows louder as they near the door, the window fogged up and misted with cold air on the outside and warm air in the inside. The rain had washed away most of the snowy slush, and what little remains is not enough to prevent injury should either of them slip and fall this time.

Calm is slower as he follows after Inaho, not wearing rainboots or protective wear.

With the rain and slight slush, the stone pathway is slippery, dangerous, and Inaho’s rainboots squeak and splash quietly, unlike Calm’s own. Calm’s footsteps are a bit louder, each step deliberate.

Inaho turns his head a bit at the sound, careful to watch his own pace. “Making sure I don’t fall again?”

“Nope, kinda more worried about myself at the moment,” Calm says, though a mischievous smile pulls on his lips, a playful glint in his blue eyes. “I wouldn’t trip over my own feet, like you do.”

That makes Inaho frown again, and he resumes his pace, giving his attention back to the rainy, slightly foggy path before him. “I haven’t slipped on oil and dirtied several uniforms.”

They reach the garage, and Calm’s smile has yet to fade, fully expecting that kind of retort. A change of subject is in order. “So, uh…” His breath comes out a white fog before him, even here, “You… aren’t even, like… a little worried about visiting some town in the middle of nowhere? Or nervous about meeting Slaine?” He heaves the heavier bags into the trunk after Inaho puts his own in, and takes care not to slam them down. They all fit rather nicely, just perfect enough to have a bit of spare room left over. Inaho will most likely need help taking them all out, but perhaps that ‘friend’ of his could be of some help.

The brunet has not been kind enough to share any photos, though he mentioned that Slaine was blond, foreign, and ‘nice’.

And that was it.

No matter how much Inko or Nina poked and prodded, no matter how much Calm teased, Inaho would not offer anything more than that.

“… ‘nervous’…?” Inaho echoes after him, glancing upward again to meet the other’s eyes. “Why would I be nervous about seeing him?”

Calm gazes back at him for a moment, noting the slight confusion on Inaho’s face. “Never mind,” he says, shaking his head and offering the other a smile, “I hope you have fun with your friend.”

With the two of them out of the warm house, the change from inside to outside is already visibly apparent on their faces; Inaho, especially, has already flushed a light shade of red on his cheeks and the tips of his nose and ears. Calm breathes in again, feeling the warmth linger on his lips for a moment.

Inaho breathes out softly and shuts the trunk. Pulling his hood off, he allows the water to slip off of it and onto the smooth pavement under them, continuing to gaze up at the other. “Acquaintance,” he corrects.

“A… what?”

“Acquaintance,” Inaho repeats, “We aren’t friends.” The statement sounds easy, leaving his lips. It probably should not, but he says it without much pause or hesitation, nor does he seem to find it odd in the least.

The look Calm gives him can only be described as perhaps pure confusion.

 _Why would you be visiting him if you weren’t friends?_ is probably the question going through the blond’s head at the moment. The answer would be ‘curiosity’, but to his friends, it would probably be an odd reason, and not enough to warrant a visit to a so called ‘acquaintance’, someone they would most likely deem a stranger.

Perhaps not mentioning that particular bit to Yuki and the others was a good, accidental omission on his part. Visiting someone who is not a ‘friend’ may have raised some flags.

It takes a few moments, but the confusion on Calm’s features dissipates, replaced slowly by a sort of quiet understanding - understanding not of the statement, but understanding of how Inaho handles himself, _has_ handled himself throughout their years of friendship. “Yuki wants you to call her once you arrive,” he reminds the brunet, “Inko said she’ll send you photos from that book you wanted her to check out?”

“Tell her I say ‘thank you’,” Inaho says plainly, walking over to the driver’s side of the car.

Calm follows after him, and their footsteps are quiet with the rain just outside, muffling them and their voices just the slightest bit. In the garage, they echo, and it has that sort of empty sound to it.

Resting his hand on the car’s handle, Inaho pauses in opening it, turning to add, “I’ll call Yuki-ne. She wants you to lower the temperature on the heater before you leave.”

With Yuki not around to bother him about the heat and how hot he prefers to keep it, he is free to raise the temperature to his liking, though he does offer a bit extra rent to help on that front, knowing that his preferences cost them a bit more to remain comfortable.

“Sure,” Calm says, stepping away just enough to allow Inaho room to open the door and get in, “Have fun with your ‘not-friend’. Try not to say that to his face, okay? He might consider _you_ a friend.” The smile on his lips is teasing again, teasing with a hint of seriousness at that last bit.

Inaho can only nod at that, unsure of how Slaine views their relationship.

The other has been friendly, cordial, but is that enough to warrant friendship? Maybe so, in his mind. Mentioning the fact that he does not consider them friends may hurt Slaine’s feelings, and in turn make this surprise visit awkward…

Inaho’s own views of friendship vastly differ from the norm, which is partially why he has so few friends to call his own. Not that it matters; Calm, Inko, Nina… they are all very dear and near to him, the best friends he could hope to have, no matter how they tease him.

Nodding again, Inaho starts to open the car door, offering Calm a ghost of a smile, “I’ll see you in a few weeks. I’ll message if anything happens.”

“See ya!” Calm hums, politely waving, “Stay warm, ‘kay?”

* * *

 

The drive to Slaine’s town passes quicker than expected. Other than the occasional icy turn here and there, there were no hindrances to impede the few hour drive.

The road _was_ a bit more slippery than he is used to; it seemed as if the more north he went, it slightly worsened. Calm had been thoughtful enough to put chains on the tires of all their cars, including Inaho’s, to prevent any accidents or mishaps. The mechanic to-be has been practicing his skills - tuneups, fixes - using their cars as guinea pigs of sorts, and so far, no alterations have come out especially bad.

The closer he got, the more heavily forested the areas on the side of the road became, until it was hard to see through the other side toward the other roads that lead to _real_ civilization. There were few signs to indicate that there even _is_ a town this far out, with the rare ones stating however many miles he had left to go and leaving it at that. Perhaps small towns like this lack any real impact on maps and directions, ultimately left to be either forgotten or to their own devices…

Either way, Inaho is grateful once he parks his car outside of a small café, though he remains seated for a few short moments more. The frost already starts to threaten the windows of his car, and the bare snow among the sidewalk and pavement is an ill sign of things to come. Leaving the warm comfort of his car will be _hard_ , though he knows he cannot stay in here any longer.

Without stopping to eat or snack on the way here, the drive had left him hungry and thirsty and in need of a chance to stretch his legs.

 _At least it’s lunch time,_ he tells himself, reaching over toward the passenger’s side to grab the woollen cap and gloves he had been intuitive enough to leave, though perhaps the rain jacket could have been replaced with a proper winter coat… Grabbing one from his luggage would take too long, when the café is right there. Pulling the cap and gloves on before he reluctantly shuts the car off, Inaho tries to mind his footing as he gets out, careful not to slip on the ice as he shuts the car door behind him.

The first thought that comes to mind is, _It really_ **is** _cold._ The second is, _For it being lunchtime on a school day, there certainly are a lot of people wandering around._

There are.

Despite all the people wandering around, there is only the slightest of hums from their hushed voices, no children laughing or screaming or running around. It seems as if the whole town has gone out to lunch, and perhaps it _has_.

 _It would not be unusual for a small town like this to run clockwork,_ Inaho figures, _It might make things easier for the people who live here._ Pulling a bit on his cap, he exhales, and his breath again comes out a white smoke; the warmth only lingers for a few short seconds, growing colder again as he casts one more look around.

_Quiet._

Unlike the city, it is so _quiet_ here; no doubt, it will be far easier to relax in such a peaceful town. In spite of the cold, it does seem like it will be nice to spend his vacation here… Inaho starts to walk toward the café, gloved fingers lingering only for a moment on the metal handle - even through his gloves, he can still feel the cold attempting to assault his skin. The bell overhead jingles softly to signal his entrance, and he hears a low murmur of, “Welcome!” as he steps through the door frame and into the warm, welcoming atmosphere of the café.

It does not take long for his eyes to settle on a vaguely familiar tuft of blond hair, the blond’s back facing him as they sip what _seems_ to be coffee. _This makes things much easier,_ he figures as he approaches the table, sliding into the seat across. Tapping quietly on the table, he murmurs, “It's nice to finally meet you, Slaine Troyard.”

Hearing his name, Slaine looks up from his novel as he takes a sip from his coffee cup, the entrails of which he instantly spat at the brunet.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday, Slaine! ;)

_No sooner had these syllables passed my lips, than -- as if a shield of brass had indeed, at the moment, fallen heavily upon a floor of silver -- I became aware of a distinct,  hollow, metallic, and clangorous, yet apparently muffled, reverberation. Completely unnerved..._  Slaine reads leisurely only to momentarily pause for a sip of his recently brewed coffee. His eyes does not leave the page, entirely enthralled by the imagery of his recent novel, rather a compilation of Edgar Allan Poe's tales of mystery and imagination.  _Completely unnerved, I leaped-_  
  
Someone gently taps the table and sits opposite to Slaine.  "It's nice to finally meet you, Slaine Troyard,"  the person says. Habitually Slaine looks up and eerily he finds that he recognizes the person's voice, not so much his appearance.  _Enjoy your vacation!_  Slaine spontaneously remembers and his eyes widen as it dawns to him, spitting his coffee in absolute shock. Slaine hides his face with his hands; he is certain he is bright red. He takes a deep breath and peeks from between his fingers to confirm the storm that stumbled in front of him - Kaizuka Inaho.

“Sorry…” he apologizes. He offers his handkerchief and winces at his unsightliness. His hand trembles as he held the cloth.

“… it’s fine,” Inaho murmurs, taking the offered handkerchief. Starting to clean the traces of Slaine’s drink off of him, he glances back toward the blond, noting the embarrassed flush in his cheeks and ears. “It’s fine,” he repeats, taking care to say it more gently this time, “I surprised you, didn’t I?”

The scent of Slaine’s coffee already wafts from his jacket, mixing in with the slightly sweet, slightly bitter scent of the café, people’s drinks and desserts… It is hard not to be reminded of his hunger.

The other guests are all chatting and eating quietly, either at tables or standing around - a quick glance toward the glass stand shows that it is full of mostly sweets, cakes, cookies and tarts… It reminds him vaguely of the stuff Inko sometimes brings with her for their joint lunch, though more often than not, she brings actual meals from her parent’s restaurant. The sweets inside the glass stand are all arranged neatly, putting enough space between each item, and they look fresh, and new, and Inaho cannot help but think that must mean they are warm, fresh from the oven.

“Surprised… would be an understatement,” Slaine mumbles and averts his gaze to the window only to frown. Kaizuka’s raincoat blatantly takes over any scenery with its bright orange color. “Normally you would tell someone you are visiting…” he adds; he withdraws his sight to his hands. He clasps them together, seeing the trembling had yet to subside.

“You seemed busy,” Inaho says, continuing to wipe the drink off before glancing downward at his jacket for any traces. It is waterproof after all,  _liquid proof,_ his thoughts offer, so there is no issue of staining, only the lingering smell of whatever Slaine is drinking. “And I only just decided two days ago. You said it was nice here. Good enough for a vacation,” he points out, raising his head again to follow Slaine’s gaze.

The orange of his jacket does not offer quite the view, with its color distorting the image of the outside, and the lights from the ceiling are no help to alleviate the spreading hue.

“Is this not a good place for a vacation? Or do you not want me here?”

 _This… this is irredeemable,_  Slaine chastises himself. He did tell Inaho his town would make an ideal getaway from the city life but this is beside the point. Slaine widens his eyes and vehemently waves his hands. “No! Not at all- I mean. I… I…” He hesitates, thinking,  _Want is a rather strong word to say… I wouldn’t want to impose…_  “Want…” he cautiously continues. He notices his voice had begun to trail off. “You… Here… It’s just…”  _Two days ago…?_  He tries to smile politely yet his words betray him. Candidly so. “You decided this at the drop of a hat…” He lowers his hands as he began to seriously think. Slaine recollects Kaizuka mentioning his dislike for the cold and asks, “Do you… do you even know how cold it will be during your stay? And… where are you staying while here?”

Inaho gazes at the other, silent for a few short moments.

Clearly, coming here has resulted in a heavy sort of surprise, though he cannot blame Slaine for feeling that way. With a notification, would his reaction have been this strong?

He says, “I made sure to watch the news and check the forecasts. I have enough jackets and a heavy blanket to keep me warm during my stay. Yuki-ne made sure I’d be comfortable enough if I’m to stay here during my time off.” Pausing to stare a moment more, he adds, “I have enough money to keep my car gassed up so the heater’s running. It’s big enough for me to sleep in during the night. I thought staying here rather than at home during my vacation would be more interesting.”

Truthfully, he had not thought his vacation would become interesting this quickly.

Slaine’s mind blanks. He slowly gathers his thoughts as he goes over Kaizuka’s answer. He reconsiders, but seeing how the young physicist’s expression remains unchanged, he could see no other explanation.  _He’s outright serious._   _He’s… absolutely… serious._ Slaine hugs his sides and bursts laughing. Kaizuka  _had_  left Slaine with the impression of being quite the logic-driven individual.  _Had._

He struggles to catch his breath and wipes his eyes from tearing for how hard he laughed. “You… you…” He pauses for air, “are quite the asinine mage.” Slaine grins only to blush again  _even worse_   _than before_. From the corner of his eye, he could see the other regulars of the café stare. He rigidly gets up and hastily points to the door. “Le-le-let’s go. I. I have a sp-spare room you can use. Th-this way!”

* * *

 

Inaho is quiet as he follows after Slaine up the stairs and to the apartment that apparently resides on the second floor. They had not spent much time dawdling on the first floor, though from the glances Inaho stole, he realizes that Slaine had more books than he initially expected, despite the blond running a shop. The whole of the first floor had smelt of antique books, like a bare sort of vanilla scent, and not like the usual must or mold that comes with them.

It is obvious, guessing from the glances and the books he has purchased, that Slaine does his best taking care of each book to ensure quality and longevity.

Whatever the reason, they had left the café in a hurry and would have walked the short distance from there to Slaine’s shop, had Inaho not remembered the luggage in the trunk of his car. Carrying the luggage there, despite the short distance, would not have been very kind in this weather.

 _Flustered,_ Inaho thinks to himself.

That is now the first word that comes to mind when describing the entity that is Slaine Troyard.

No longer ‘foreign’, or ‘nice’, but ‘ _flustered_ ’, extremely so. Perhaps the reaction is not wholly undeserving. Inaho did, as Slaine said, ‘ _decide at the drop of a hat’_  to come here for vacation, and ultimately take him by complete and utter surprise.

So, Inaho is quiet for a few moments more as he walks up the stairs and to the apartment, taking care not to bump any of his luggage against the walls or the stairway. The blond had been kind enough to not only offer the spare room in his apartment, but to help Inaho take the other two bags up the stairs, sparing them a second trip and sparing them from the biting cold of the outside.

Judging from all the stammering and blushing from before, Inaho guesses something like this has never happened before. Then again, most people surprising another with a visit would probably be rather close.

“Thank you,” he finally says after a moment, once they reach the top, “For allowing me to stay, I mean. You didn’t have to.”

Slaine comes to a halt and looks at Inaho dumbfoundedly. It takes a moment for him to grasp what Inaho referred to. He turns away, shaking his head profusely. “Not… not at all. I'm sorry for the clutter and the dust… had I known…” He stops in his tracks. _No. It's not his fault. It's mine… even if unlikely, I should have kept this place clean especially if Uncle Saazbaum is…_ He politely smiles and faces the door. “You must be hungry from the drive. I'll… make something while you situate yourself.”

He excuses himself and leaves Kaizuka for the kitchen where he retrieves a saucepan. He sighs in relief and rests his forehead on the rim of the opened cabinet to his pans.

“Fields have eyes and woods have ears…” Slaine murmurs.

Kaizuka is an acquaintance from an online marketplace where Slaine frequented due a combination of work and personal reasons. On the board, he found customers for the antique books his workplace kept and among those customers was Kaizuka. There, it was common practice for customers to check in on Slaine when looking for other peculiar, old books and Kaizuka was no different.

Like other customers, Kaizuka would ask something along the lines of,“ _Do you have books detailing electromagnetics?”_  or, “ _I need more books for my research material. Can you send them in two days if I give you a list of what’s needed?”_

Unlike most customers, the books in question were primarily large scientific volumes, compilations of past physicists and were full of theory and research. The difference did not end there. On a whim, although very rarely, Kaizuka strayed from the formal flow of their conversations and at times mention the weather and it would lead to a tangent of, “ _How cold is it there?”_  or, “ _What do you mean, you don’t go skating?”_

It was interesting, a small break from their mostly business centered conversations; Kaizuka had no issue continuing their short tangents, and Slaine himself spoke rather highly of the small little town he lived in.

Slaine stands up with his saucepan in hand and sheepishly smiles.  _I can’t squabble here… I need to prepare dinner… for two,_  he realizes when thinking about the proportions for the recipe he has in mind.

* * *

 

Inaho gazes after Slaine for a moment before he starts to look around the small apartment, allowing his curiosity to take over.

There are books… everywhere. Lying on the sofa, on the coffee table - they are all shut, with bookmarks sticking out from between their pages, and judging from their spines and covers, they all seem to be fictional stories.  _I suppose owning a bookshop comes with an interest for reading,_ he reasons,  _an_ **avid** _interest._ These, too, seem to be in relative good shape despite being strewn about the living room. Picking one up, Inaho starts to flip through it, glancing at the paragraphs. The book is heavy, and there seem to be small, detailed illustrations marking each new chapter.  _A fairy tale?_ he wonders, shutting it and setting it back down, returning to his bags.

With the luggage up the stairs, at least, he can carry them one by one to Slaine’s spare room and leave them there, not needing to unpack anything yet. Exchanging his raincoat for a proper sweater seems the best idea right now, before anything else. As helpful as the rain jacket was, it did not do much to spare him from the cold. A light sweater will do for now, with it being warm enough in here to not warrant a heavy jacket or his hat and gloves.

Inaho goes about doing just that; he finds the spare room semi-easily, after opening a few doors as quietly as he could and peeking inside them, careful not to let his eyes wander too long. As curious as he is, it does not seem a good idea to breach Slaine’s privacy - they still are not friends, after all, and making Slaine uncomfortable seems an ill idea.

The spare room is… a little dusty. It does not look as it if has received much - if any - use at all, and it will require some light cleaning. The bedsheets are neat, however, and look relatively untouched… as does mostly everything else in the room. Still, this is probably better than sleeping in the car, though he was fully prepared to do so upon finding a private area to park in.

Inaho deposits his bags in one corner before kneeling and searching for a sweater amongst his clothing, choosing a woollen pullover in the end. He rests the rain jacket on one of the bed’s wooden posts, still faintly smelling the coffee that Slaine had spit up on it.  _Soap,_ he tells himself,  _I can wash it with soap later and put it away._ The sweater feels lighter and less bulky than the raincoat, and he returns back to the living room, glancing toward the kitchen again. “Slaine…” he murmurs as he walks toward the door frame, “Do you have…”

He trails off upon seeing the blond starting to cook, and amends, “Do you need help?”

Slaine nearly jumps when Inaho asked.  _So quick,_ he thinks, glancing to the stove’s analog clock and sees it only has been a few minutes since. He grasps for words but is tongue tied.  _No! He’s a guest and I should be accommodating… but truthfully…_  Slaine recollects his train of thought. He  _was_  starting to cook the recipe he had in mind but realized as he is uncertain whether or not it would be to Inaho’s taste, which led to the current tangent,  _If I am to be accommodating shouldn’t I ask what he would like or reconsider eating out? But we had just left the_ _café_ …  _which was my original plan for dinner…_

“I can help cook,” Inaho offers, adding, “If you’re having trouble. I cook for my sister and myself.”

A pause.

Glancing toward the ingredients strewn about the counter, and the saucepan on the oven, he slowly starts to put two and two together. “You haven’t cooked for a guest, have you?”  _Flustered,_ he thinks again, gaze flickering back toward the other.

Slaine is very obviously flustered again, and if Inaho does not help, they may end up with either burnt food or no food, or not enough food to feed the both of them.

He averts his gaze elsewhere; he did not want to admit it… but it is the truth. The last time he had a guest over… A faded memory resurfaces. Slaine had laughed alongside another, a  _friend_ , a  _very precious_   _and important_ friend over a cooking failure.

He closes his eyes shut and ceases that train of thought. He swallows the lump in his throat that had formed, desperately trying to regain his composure and smiles. “I don’t mean to impose… but that would probably be best… Sorry Kaizuka.”

“It’s no issue at all,” Inaho says, waving off the statement.

Though he had not been expecting to cook extensively during his stay here - a few meals here and there, perhaps, if the local inn had a kitchen - this is a welcome change to his plans for his meals throughout his stay.

His eyes flicker again over the ingredients - small bags of assorted frozen vegetables and what looks to be a can of soup - and then his gaze again returns to the saucepan. “If you’re planning on cooking something for the both of us, we’re going to need a bigger pot than that,” he points out, “Unless you intend on eating only a small amount.”  _Soup and vegetables on their own aren’t very filling,_ he cannot help but think. Then again, Slaine himself does not seem to eat all that much, judging from his lean figure. “What were you planning on making?”

“Stew… or some soup with sandwiches?” Slaine answers uncertain how Inaho would react. He adds, “If there is something else possible, be my guest.” The more Slaine considers the ingredients he had sprawled on the counter, the more apparent it is to Slaine how unlikely they could make a fulfilling meal.

 _Soup and sandwiches…?_ Inaho thinks to himself, not sure how he feels about that particular combination. Perhaps if they had tomato soup, but… filling as it may be, it does not seem all that appealing. ‘ _Be my guest’ implies free reign,_ he notes,  _But if these are all the options Slaine has… I’ll have to remedy that tomorrow._ “Stew, then,” he murmurs, starting to wonder if meals like this are what Slaine usually eats.

Seeing Inaho consider the ingredients, Slaine grips his left arm.  _He is definitely disappointed…_ he presumes. Harklight, a former classmate of his, also had the similar expression when he was over and they scrambled for a meal during one of their study breaks. Slaine knew he should have considered a larger variety of cuisine but since  _then_ , he has had difficulty eating anything more concrete.

Regarding the other for a few moments, Inaho remains quiet, wondering if perhaps he has unintentionally started to make the other uncomfortable with this exchange.

Taking over dinner… spending his vacation with a near stranger… This is all odd, even he understands that much. Perhaps imposing was a bad idea after all. “We can cook together,” he offers, hoping to alleviate Slaine’s discomfort, “I’ll show you how to make portions for one than one person. And we could… talk…”

Yes. Talk. That would certainly alleviate the mood as they cook, and perhaps Slaine would not feel so uneasy.

Inaho goes quiet again as he stares at the other, trying to recall some of the things Slaine had mentioned about this little town. Other than being a peaceful, quiet vacation spot, there are apparently several things to do that are not all that typical or otherwise enjoyable in the city. “Skating,” he finally settles on, grabbing the saucepan and looking it over,  _This is really too small for two people…_ “You said there was a lake to skate at here. Could I rent skates somewhere?” he continues, switching out the saucepan with a slightly bigger, more acceptable pot for what they need to prepare.

“Skating… Ah.” Slaine remembers.  _That’s right, I mentioned that in the past. I was trying to think of positives for cold weather…_ “Yes. You can rent a pair,” Slaine smiles, beaming more than before. He is happy to hear Inaho is interested in skating but reminds, “but it will be cold, even in the indoor rink.”

 _Cold…_ The thought lingers in his head.  _Of course it will be cold. This is not the city,_ he reminds himself, mentally preparing to put up with the freezing cold for a few hours.They have to keep the ice from melting, somehow.

Slaine laughs, amused to see Inaho’s gradual displeasure from realizing the imminent cold skating would expose him to. “Where do you think it is? Although the lake… may be not ideal. Maybe the ice rink at Elly’s will be better…” He reconsiders and smirks, “which is still outside my apartment.”

‘ _Of course they’re both outside’,_ is what very nearly comes out of his mouth.

Catching himself, he holds in a sigh. “I see,” is what he settles on, simple and short, “I’ll wear my jacket, then. I did promised Yuki-ne I’d learn how to before I returned home.”

Slaine freezes. “… Did I hear you right?  _Learn_?”

“Yes…?” Inaho blinks at the reaction, “Surely someone who’s been living here for quite some time now can help me learn to skate.”

“In addition to skates, we may want to get something for the imminent, impending bruises.”

“We could buy a small first aid kit before we go,” Inaho suggests.

Slaine nods.  _And you may reconsider._  “There’s more to the town than skating.”

“I'd like to see other stuff as well.” Walking around Slaine, Inaho starts to fill the pot with a bit of water, only about a quarter full to leave room for the soup. Once they bring it to a boil, they can add in the vegetables without having to thaw them completely and wait longer to eat. “If I had a guide… it would be easier to look around, rather than getting lost on my own…” he murmurs thoughtfully as he sets the pot down onto the stovetop and reaches over to flip the burner on, tensing up for a moment upon hearing the vaguely familiar sound of gas igniting.

Old town. Gas stove.

Of course.

“Do you have meat? Pork or beef?”

Slaine walks promptly to his refrigerator and retrieves a plate of pork he had thankfully thawed the other day. He places it on the nearby kitchen counter. “I would be more than happy to show you around town… it’s just…”  _His jacket won’t suffice… Maybe…_ “Did you bring another jacket with you? It will be colder if we were to consider hiking…”  _Actually would Kaizuka prefer indoor activities since it’s cold…?_  Slaine debates while watching Inaho work his way around his kitchen. He smirks a little bit seeing Inaho’s slight bewilderment at the fact his stove was gas; he imagines the city stoves are electric, by now.

“Thank you,” Inaho murmurs, “We need to cook and season that in a separate pan before adding it to the vegetables and soup.”

Following Inaho’s advice, Slaine nods. “Let me find another pan then.” Slaine returns to his cabinet before peeking back at Inaho somewhat ashamed. “How big exactly?” Again he nearly fell into the habit of retrieving something adequate for one person.

“Seven inches,” Inaho answers, starting to open the packages to the vegetables. With the water almost boiling, he can dump them in and add the soup as well, and then turn the temperature down… “I brought another jacket. Yuki-ne helped me pack adequately enough that I wouldn’t have to deal with the cold here,” he adds in a lower tone as he starts to empty the frozen vegetables into the pot.

“Hopefully this will do…” Slaine mumbles when bringing another item onto the kitchen counter. “… that’s good. I have another coat you can borrow if you need another layer. What do you have in mind to do while here?” he asks.

“That will do,” Inaho says, nodding a bit as he gazes at the pan.

It is just big enough for the pork to simmer in, and should be easy enough to handle when they need to dump the pork into the stew. Seasoning it and cooking it enough until it is ready to stew should not take long, hopefully - the longest part will be waiting for the stew itself to be ready, once everything has cooked thoroughly.

Slaine had mentioned skating and the lake earlier - and then there is the subject of books and research…

“Your bookshop… ” he murmurs, “You have other books, don’t you?”

“A plethora of books,” Slaine replies instantly. It takes a moment for him to realize how he sounded. He looks away, crossing his arms and covering the lower part of his face, embarrassed. He did not mean to brag or sound like he was stating the obvious. “What… what about them?”

His heart lunges when he faces his dining room. It dawns to him that the dining table was covered by the plethora of books he is so fond of.  _More than likely he hasn’t caught on… but still…_ Slaine tries to comfort himself; he scurries to the dining room to make way for their pending meal.

Inaho gazes after Slaine as he flees from the kitchen, momentarily taken by surprise.  _Flustered, again,_ he realizes, wondering what it was that set him off this time. The question of books? Surely other people buy from his bookshop, whether it be online or in person… Unless he got uncomfortable with the subject itself, going from casual conversation right back to business, like their messages usually entail…

“I can…” Slaine says, while heaving one stack of books off the table, “still… hear you!” He picks up another but curses; his French to English dictionary fell from the top of his current stack.  _Haste makes waste!_ Slaine berates himself and crouches to check the dictionary’s bind,  _Thank goodness._

_Oh._

“I was considering purchasing some more to bring home with me,” Inaho says, raising his voice a bit, “I’d like to see what you have available.”  _It’d be easier than waiting for another shipment… and I could continue my research here on a smaller scale if I had the material with me…_ he figures,  _If I have nothing to do, then at least I can continue that._

Glancing toward the pork, he starts to slowly open and sift through the drawers, looking for a knife. “Slaine, where are your knives?”

“Drawer to the right of the sink!” Slaine yells from the back of the dining room. He dusts his hands and feels relieved seeing the top of the dining table. “I presume you are interested in more scientific books?” he questions while making his way back into the kitchen.

“Thank you…” The gratitude comes out a murmur as he reaches for said drawer, surprised to find a normal array of knives inside of it. Granted, the sharper ones look relatively unused, but… At least he will not have to use a butter knife or a bread knife; this will make things easier to prepare.

Taking Slaine’s pan along with the plate of pork, he brings them to the sink to cut up. Once they have finished with all the cooking, he intends on asking for sanitizer to sterilize everything; if either of them became ill from contamination… “I am,” he answers, “I’d appreciate any more recommendations you have, in regards to my research. You’re better aware of what would be helpful since they  _are_ your books.”

Slaine chuckles at Kaizuka’s response. He leans on the counter next to Kaizuka without inhibiting the more experienced cook. The topic of books brightened the awkward mood. “They may be my books but books are only as useful as the beholder decides. Perchance could you elaborate?” Slaine asks, the curiosity overtakes his worry of prying too much into his customer's affairs. As it stands, his understanding of what Kaizuka asked of him was lacking. He has a feeling even the books not for sale in his safekeeping may be of use and only a possibility while Kaizuka is here but he was uncertain. Science, even for a particular field, is vast.

“Physics,” Inaho answers simply, rolling up the leaves to his sweater before rinsing the knife off, glancing toward the other.

Relaxed.

Slaine seems far more calm, now, after running out of the kitchen in a fluster. Perhaps whatever he had done in the other room had helped him calm down, or perhaps he just needed a break from being in a small room with a near stranger who had all but kicked him out of his own kitchen.

Either way, it seems the change in topic has helped.

“I’m… studying physics,” he continues, though he pauses again as he slices the pork into thin strips, setting them down onto the pan. The pork feels cold against his fingers, freshly thawed and refrigerated - in a short while, at least, the kitchen will be warm from the heat the stove will give off. The water is already starting to boil. “Light physics. And color,” he continues, unsure if the elaboration is enough.

“Light physics? That makes it optics then?” He closes his eyes to recollect his inventory. His smile grows when thinking fondly of some books, but again Kaizuka was sparse with the details of his research.  _Must be intellectual property or maybe he signed a nondisclosure act. I better not pry anymore…_ His smile darkens as he was about to do the opposite. Optics is still a broad topic. “Is your research more involved with lasers?” Slaine guesses. “Any application and theory of physics could be a book on its own…” A thought crosses his mind, one he had to admit, “If you're looking for something more up to date, there are science journals available online.”  _Books actually lag behind for the science field_ …

“Yes… and no,” Inaho answers, shaking his head, “What I’m doing has nothing to do with lasers. It’s more theoretical.” Pausing for a third time, he sets the last few slices of pork down onto the pan and pushes it a bit closer to Slaine, “Can you season that for me?” The meat is more than enough the way it is, and will make for a nice stew amongst the vegetables - a far more favorable choice than the soup by itself. This, at least, has protein along with other necessary nutrients.

Inaho sets the knife down in the sink and runs water over it, quickly washing his hands before pulling his sleeves down again, over his fingers. The meat had left his fingertips cold, an uncomfortable feeling. “The invisibility theory. You’ve heard about that, haven’t you? That’s what I’m researching. So if you had anything concerning that…”

Slaine tries to hide a snort; again Inaho fails to give him a satisfactory answer.  _Perhaps he doesn't know what he is looking for?_ He stands up and walks over to the living room while supplying, “There is the invisibility trick cameramen use. There is the fictional invisibility cloak of a child who lived. And then there is active camouflage which I assume is the one you're referring to?” Disassembling a pile on the coffee table, Slaine succeeds to find a potential pertinent read.

‘ _Invisibility cloak’…_ Inaho does not miss that reference. Nina would often go on about that particular series; she even dragged them all to the theater a few times to watch the movies as they came out.

Still, however. Fictional is fictional, and what he is attempting to research is  _real_ science. “Active camouflage would probably be the closest,” he answers, adding mentally,  _If we’re talking about something that can actually, truly be applied and not a trick of the eyes._ Remaining in the kitchen, he rests his back against the counter, listening to the water boil and Slaine shuffle about in the other room. “So you’re interested in that kind of thing, then?”

 _Interest would be one way to put it,_ Slaine thinks to himself. “Maybe? Depending on what I'm reading, I may research to see if what a character does is plausible. In this case it would be the cloak of invisibility. Unfortunately to the ignorant fan, such an item is impossible.” He gets up after kneeling to check the lowest shelf of one bookcase and stretches before making his way back to the kitchen with a few books in hand. “I think a few of these may suit your fancy although some of them are not for sale.” Slaine does not miss a beat on the last bit. Some of the books are special to him. They are synonymous to heirlooms for his father had been quite the scientist while he was still around.

‘ _Ignorant fan’._ At that, Inaho feels a bare smile start to pull at his lips.  _Not like Nina, then,_ he thinks, feeling a bit relieved. Had Slaine gone off on a tangent like she does… well, it would be hard to keep up.

Straightening himself a bit, he gazes at the books in Slaine’s possession, noting that some of them look quite old and used. “It’s fine if they aren’t for sale. I don’t intend on forcing you to part with them,” he says, “If you don’t mind, I’ll take notes and return them to you.”

His attention remains on the books as he appreciates Inaho's consideration. “Thank you. I'll see if I have more downstairs.”

 _Ah, but…_ Inaho watches as Slaine leaves the kitchen without another word, books still in hand,  _Perhaps… bringing up the books was a bad idea… Though it did help alleviate his discomfort…_ He cannot help but feel a bit confused, taken aback by the sudden turn of events.

Standing in the kitchen, now alone, the brunet’s gaze flickers back to the pan of unseasoned pork, still awaiting preparation. Slaine had not even seemed to acknowledge it after bringing the books up, completely forgetting about the food.

 _A one track mind,_ he figures, starting to roll his sleeves back up again, looking around for any spices,  _I suppose I_ **did** _offer to help with dinner… Though I thought he would be helping me…_  Opening up a few of the cupboards overhead, he sighs in relief to find that Slaine has at least the most basic of seasonings: salt and pepper, and a few bay leaves in a small plastic bag. Once he has finished preparing the pork and cooking it enough to add to the stew, all they will have to do is wait until it is ready. Perhaps by then, Slaine would have remembered to eat and come back upstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some Notes:  
> Slaine was reading from the short story, "House of Usher" by Edgar Allan Poe, and throughout the chapter, he also refers to idioms and proverbs:  
> \- "Drop of a hat" : deciding something on such short notice  
> \- “Fields have eyes and woods have ears…” : even though you are outside in an apparently empty landscape, someone may be eavesdropping on you.  
> \- "Haste makes waste" : acting too quickly may actually slow things down.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next on Slaine and Inaho's culinary adventures --

Inaho wakes up to faint light trickling into the spare room from the window, the drive having done nothing for his internal clock. It takes a few moments for him to remember that this is not his room - nor is this his home state. He sits up slowly at first, having slept under a pile of heavy blankets. Slaine had been kind enough to offer him some more right before they had retired for the night, and coupled with the one he had brought from his own house, he had not been cold in the slightest last night despite the window frosting over.

It is… noticeably silent. There is no cacophony of sound, no traffic, the hum of people wandering about even this early in the morning is absent… Judging from just how quiet it is, it does not seem as if Slaine has woken up either, or perhaps he has already wandered downstairs, ready to attend to his shop. Inaho doubts tending to a bookshop warrants a lot of noise, if any at all.

Slowly pushing aside the blankets, he gets himself out of bed and makes his way toward the living room, rubbing a bit at his eyes. It is still warm in the apartment, thankfully, and he finds himself wandering toward the kitchen until something at the corner of his eye brings him to a stop.

… there is a blanket, on the floor, beside the sofa. Inaho finds himself staring for a few moments, surprised to find his  _host_ asleep, out here, rather than his bedroom. Like yesterday, there are books strewn about, on the table and on the floor beside Slaine’s makeshift bed…  _Was he up reading after I went to bed?_ he wonders, figuring it must have been a small miracle Slaine actually put the books down when it was finally time for dinner.  _I probably shouldn’t wake him…_

Continuing to the kitchen, Inaho decides to start with breakfast. That, at least, will be a nice thing for Slaine to wake up to.

Meanwhile in the living room, Slaine’s mobile buzzes and vibrates on the wooden floor. He reaches for the phone with his right hand, unearthing himself from the blanket he had wrapped himself in.  _8:40 a.m,_  Slaine reads. He sits up to stretch and yawns into his left hand. Lazily, he gets up to his feet and, wobbling every so often, he yawns again and starts to make his way to the nearby restroom where he turns on the shower.

Upon opening the fridge and going through the cupboards he had not gone through yesterday, Inaho starts to wonder how Slaine had normally fed himself before. There is enough food for someone to eat their fill, but there is - by no means - enough diversity to warrant a healthy diet. Crouching down in front of it, he allows the door to swing open as he inspects the contents, glad to find that there is nothing spoiled or old, at least. He reaches forward to look at the dates on the sparse contents, just in case, and reorganizes them so they are not pushed all the way to the back.

A faint sound catches his ears, a quiet, bare sort of  _tap_ , though when he raises his head, he finds nothing there. Shutting the fridge after a moment of silence, he goes to the cupboards next. The cupboards are filled with cereals and several cans of soup, all in assorted different flavors… chicken soup, stock, beef soup… There are some more questionable flavors here, some with broccoli mixed in, cheese…

Slaine’s lean figure makes more sense, now, after seeing how he would have eaten yesterday had Inaho left him to his own devices. Sustaining himself on the bare minimum does not seem a good way to keep his energy up, not when he has all those books to attend to… Though, he had slept in this morning, presumably after passing out from exhaustion, being up too late reading those books of his.

 _After breakfast,_  Inaho decides,  _I’ll go out and buy things for us to prepare and eat._  If he is to stay here for the duration of his vacation, they will need  _proper_ food for the  _both_ of them to eat. Judging by what ingredients they have left over from yesterday, omelettes seem to be the easiest, most filling choice.

Gathering what vegetables they have leftover, along with some cheese, he starts cooking the vegetables first, allowing them to get just crisp enough to be ready when he adds in a few beaten eggs. The kitchen warms up quickly, and he lowers the heat slightly upon adding the eggs and cheese, not wanting anything to burn.

Should Slaine wake up soon, they will be almost ready to eat.

* * *

 

Sleepily, Slaine makes it to his bedroom after the shower and opens his cabinet to retrieve another pair of khaki pants, a random shirt and sweater. He yawns after straightening the sweater over his shirt. The coffee machine sounds, concluding his morning routine, and he heads into his kitchen. The closer he approaches, he smells an aroma he had not smelled in an unspeakably long time. Walking into the kitchen, he recollects what had transpired yesterday, seeing the brunet using the stove again.

“G… good morning,” Slaine attempts to greet. Meekly, he goes into the kitchen and grabs a cup of coffee. He eyes the time on the stove clock.  _8:55 a.m._   _Almost time to open shop…_  he realizes. His feet already proceed out kitchen out of habit, without his full attention, yet does not leave.  _Today is different. This is different. There is… something I must do,_  he tries to recall. His mind is still slow from the lingering drowsiness. He distinctly remembers, at the very least, that walking away is not right.

“… good morning…” Inaho returns, raising an eyebrow as he watches Slaine linger at the kitchen’s entrance.  _Distracted, again?_ he wonders, staring at his host’s back in silence for a few moments, wondering if either that is the case, or if Slaine had forgotten something upon entering. The pan’s handle feels warm in his hands, now, and the kitchen smells vaguely of melted cheese and pepper… Surely, Slaine must have realized… “I’m making breakfast,” he says, just in case, “Omelettes. I’m not finished yet, but I can bring it to you, if you’d like?”

 _So that's why…_ “I would appreciate that. I need to open the shop in a few- oh! Did you sleep well? I forgot to mention I have a space heater in storage,” Slaine remembers, much to his relief.

“I slept comfortably. Thank you for the additional blankets,” Inaho says, glancing back toward the pan, where the omelettes are still cooking, “The space heater won’t be necessary unless you want your blankets back. Or if the temperature suddenly drops…”

In which case, the weather here will become far less tolerable and more agonizing than peaceful… “I’ll bring you the omelette when it’s done. I wouldn’t want you to be late in opening your shop,” he says, raising his head to smile, just barely at his host. If it  _does_ get slightly colder, taking Slaine up on the offer will not be so bad… It was kind of him to remember, at any rate; he does not feel as if he mentioned it enough for the fact to stick.

Slaine covers his mouth, poorly holding back a snicker. He saw a flicker of displeasure in Kaizuka’s expression. “I’ll get the space heater from storage later just in case.” He sees the time and turns to the stairs. “Thank you, Kaizuka. Please make yourself at home. And… if you need anything, I'm just downstairs.” He smiles and heads downstairs.

Entering the antique bookstore, Slaine turns on the lights and opens the front door, placing the open sign outside. He promptly returns inside and goes to the counter, where he moves his mouse to wake up his computer. The screen flickers and with a few refreshes, he smiles upon seeing several orders had been made in his absence. He prints the list before waltzing through the aisles of the antique bookstore for the requested books.

 _Everything is fine,_  he tells himself. His heart slows to a more reasonable, tolerable rhythm, more and more so with each book he pulls and places on the counter.  _Everything is…_ Slaine is unable to finish when seeing his reflection cast at the store display window. The tips of his ears remain red, and he crouches in embarrassment.

He wants to go back upstairs.

The aroma of breakfast makes his stomach growl.  _Kaizuka can cook pretty well for what he had to work with,_ he concludes when he finishes assembling the ordered books on his counter. He looks in the direction of the stairs. Dinner had been delicious last night and he was relieved he could stomach it.  _The last hearty meal I had was…_ Slaine sits at the counter and puts on a pair of brown glasses, pulling up the addresses of the customers,  _too long ago to recall._  He bitterly smiles while the printer churns.

* * *

 

Slaine leaves the kitchen without another word, and Inaho is by himself, listening to his footsteps as he pads down the stairs; the footsteps eventually fade away, and Inaho is alone with just the quiet sizzling of the pan and the sounds of the heater running through the vents.

‘ _Make yourself at home’, he says,_ he thinks to himself, wondering if most people would be this ready to allow someone into their home. It either takes a great deal of trust or a certain amount of naïveté…

The omelettes only take a few minutes more to completely cook and be ready to eat, and without the added meat or soup, they are a lighter meal in comparison to last night’s. Hopefully it will still be as filling, enough to hold them off until lunch, at least. Inaho grabs two plates from the overhead cupboard, and tries to recall where he had seen Slaine grab the silverware - it takes a few guesses, pulling the drawers and peeking inside, but he manages to find a drawer full of assorted cutlery.

He assembles the plates before slowly starting to head downstairs, taking care to watch his step. “Slaine,” he calls, approaching the counter and setting one of the two plates down beside the blond’s hand, “Here. I forgot to ask whether or not you had any allergies to dairy…” Setting his own plate down, he leans against the counter, his eyes lingering on Slaine’s face for a short moment before he starts to eat.

Slaine faces Kaizuka and looks at the plate with a beaming smile. He shakes his head before taking a fork. “No. No allergies, but thank you! Thank you for breakfast.”

“You’re welcome,” Inaho murmurs, pausing between a few bites. “Near or far?”

Slaine ponders for a moment what Inaho asked, and realizes it was his spectacles. He swallows before he answers, “Neither.” He removes them and shows them to Inaho, particularly showing the colored lens in the overhead light. “They're meant to lessen the strain my eyes have when looking at the computer.”

“I see,” Inaho says, glancing toward the computer in question. The lenses of the glasses themselves look vaguely familiar - he has seen drivers and construction workers wearing them, though those are usually an orange shade. But if Slaine is wearing them… “Does that mean you do most of your business on the computer, then, rather than with customers that come here?” he questions, looking away from the computer and around the shop. The aisles are stocked rather nicely, and there are a good amount of books to pick and choose from…

Slaine follows Kaizuka’s gaze. “Yes. Not many visit the town and…the locals…” His smile lessens at the thought, “only come by to donate, rent or sell old textbooks. So I usually don't see anyone in the actual store.” He recollects when he first pitched the idea of selling online to his uncle, the real store owner. His mood brightens when putting the glasses back on, sentimentally gripping one of the sidearms. “Truthfully I'm surprised my uncle wants me to still open. From our sales, we would be better off as a storage space.”

“I see,” Inaho repeats, shifting his gaze back toward Slaine and their meals. “You seem to do well enough on your own if you’re able to continue to stay here…” he points out,  _Though not well enough to afford proper food. I’m surprised he left you alone._ “If you don’t see as many physical customers, why haven’t you moved your business entirely online? You’d be more free to do as you wish,” he asks, curious - an entirely online business would mean more free time for hobbies, or in Slaine’s case, most likely reading…

He nods. “My uncle says there might be a rare customer but also says it is to my discretion while he is away. I do try to have standard hours.”  _Honestly I don't think Uncle Saazbaum wants me to hole up and read my days away…_ Slaine sheepishly smiles and tries to change the topic. He finishes his food before he realizes it. “Have you thought of what you'd like to do here while on your vacation?”

Finishing the last bit of his own, Inaho gently takes Slaine’s own plate and cutlery, stacking them neatly upon each other. “I should go shopping first,” he murmurs, looking to Slaine’s face for another reaction, “Would you prefer anything specific?”

Surely the promise of food is enough to make anyone happy, especially when it will come free of cost.

Slaine closes his eyes to think. He expected as much. It had been awhile since he last went to the store. He hums. “Nothing comes to mind… I'm actually not much of an eater,” he confesses. “Once I package these orders, I can show you where the store is. It is next door to the post office,” he offers.

“Sure,” Inaho accepts, glancing downward toward the plates. “I’ll be waiting upstairs, then,” he murmurs, slowly making his way back up the steps. Given how cold it had been yesterday, he will need to grab a  _proper_ jacket so he does not freeze while he is out, even if he uses the car… ‘ _Not much of an eater’, he says,_ he starts to wonder to himself,  _Perhaps I should’ve asked whether or not he wanted something, first._

* * *

 

Slaine eagerly pulls the print outs from the under his computer and goes to the backroom. Across the counter, he nearly trips himself. He needs boxes and envelopes. Some small, some large, some more protective.  
  
He takes a deep breath after finding the items and chuckles at his own excitement. He spins on his heel as he looks forward to the daily mundane task of heading to the post office.  _Focus,_  he tells himself, trying to calm down.  _Can't make a mistake over something so trivial._ Slaine slows down his pace; he looks over the orders. He double checks, triple checks the contents of each package before sealing them once and for all. Again he does the same on the addresses and takes note of the tracking numbers for accountability.  
  
_All is in order,_  he repeats to himself; one by one he places his orders into a large plastic bin next to his counter.

Slaine heads upstairs for his coat from the nearby closet. He glances at the kitchen and then knocks at the spare room’s door. “Kaizuka, are you ready?”

The door opens a few short moments after, and Inaho stands in the doorframe, wearing a heavy coat, a scarf, and gloves. It makes him look bulkier than he actually is, bundled up like this, and a little smaller than his usual size… The coat will at least do its job of keeping him suitably insulated, despite how it looks. Adjusting his scarf, he pulls it down a bit, keeping it a bit looser around his neck since they are still inside. “Ready,” he says, nodding somewhat has he gazes at the other, “Do you want me to drive?”

Slaine resists the urge to chuckle at the bundle of cloth that is presumably Kaizuka.  _He really dislikes the cold._ “That may be best. I'll meet you downstairs.”

Inaho nods a bit, remaining still for a few moments to pat at his pockets, ensuring he has his phone, wallet and keys on him. He does - he preemptively pulls out his keys, not wanting to struggle outside in locating them, and starts to follow after Slaine, trying not to think about how  _cold_ the inside of his car is going to be.

He meets Slaine at the entrance of the shop, and glances outside the glass door at the snow littering the ground. “You’re used to this?” he asks.

Slaine had gone outside and changed his sign to say he would be back around noon. He peeks to look up the sky.  _The snow flurries?_  Getting back to his feet, he picks up his bin of packages. “About that time of year. Maybe we will be snowed in early this year,” he thinks aloud as he walks to the passenger side of Kaizuka’s car.

Inaho follows after him, feeling a frown start to form on his features at the off-handed comment. “I’d rather it not…” he mumbles, unlocking the door and opening it for Slaine, unsure if he would be able to open it with the packages in hand. The cold metal of the car’s handle already feels bad seeping through his glove, and he remains quiet as he gets into the driver’s side and starts the car, immediately turning the heat on.

It is already cold enough without the worry of being snowed in, and the slush already makes things far too white for his comfort.

When the car warms up to a point, Kaizuka drives the car following Slaine’s directions to their destination. Slaine also identifies other stores and landmarks on the way. The drive is short though, and in a few minutes they reach the parking lot.

 _It's to be expected… I usually walk this distance._ With the ignition off, Slaine vacates the car with his bin and faces the post office but before leaving, turns to Kaizuka when he gets out of the driver’s seat. “I'll meet you outside. Mornings are busy in the post office so you may finish before me.”

Nodding and waving politely, Inaho murmurs, “I’ll meet you out here when I’m done.” The cold convinces him to head inside the adjoining building as quickly as possible, without much delay, and he only catches a glimpse of Slaine entering the post office with the packages.

As expected, the store is small. Far smaller than the ones in the city, at any rate. Still, it seems as if they will have everything he intends on buying here, potentially making for just a few grocery trips during his vacation, as opposed to the several he would have had to make if staying at an inn or in his car. Breathing out softly, he grabs a small cart from the corral, and starts to look around, wondering what he should buy and what he would be able to cook without imposing too much on Slaine. ‘ _Not much of an eater’,_ he thinks again, wondering if that just means his host would prefer smaller portions, or if he would rather sustain himself in other ways.

“Oh my word. I've never seen you before. Newcomer? Visitor?” someone asks. Overhead, a young man is on top of a ladder restocking the top shelf. Seeing Inaho, he safely comes down and at each step his pale brown hair curled on one side lightly hops. The young man, Inaho surmises is a store helper when eying the young man’s dark burgundy uniform apron with the store’s brand.  

Inaho raises his head a bit at the voice, gazing at the clerk for a moment before answering, “Visitor. I’m on vacation.”

“Welcome!” the store helper greets and introduces himself, “My name’s Mazuurek. My family runs the store so don't hesitate to ask if you need help. But! If you don't mind me asking, what brings you too this part of the country?”

“I’m visiting an…”  _Still not quite friends, not really._ “… an acquaintance,” Inaho answers, “who lives in town.”

“Awfully far for an acquaintance,” Mazuurek comments and waves, heading down the aisle after collapsing the ladder. “I hope you have a pleasant stay, Visitor.”

“Thank you…” Inaho murmurs, watching as he walks away.  _That’s probably what the others would’ve said, had they known,_ he figures, starting to walk down another aisle, slowly pushing the cart ahead of him.

Buying non-perishables seems like a good idea to start with - cereals, noodles, more soup… And if they do not eat them, perhaps Slaine will find a use for them once Inaho’s vacation is over; at least he will have some form of leftovers. Still, Inaho intends on having complete, proper meals regardless of whether or not Slaine will join in eating them. If anything, perhaps he can make something lighter on the side, and that would be better…

Slowly looking amongst what is available, Inaho decides on a few boxes of noodles from this aisle, a medium sized bag of rice, and some sauces. The varying sizes of pots will work nicely for various noodle dishes, all of which will be more nourishing and filling than the noodles on their own… And it will be warm. Eating anything frozen or refrigerated does not seem all that appealing with the current temperature, despite the warmth in the apartment.

He continues on to another aisle, unused to the lack of buzz and hum in the store, or the lack of people. It does not seem as if he will have to worry much about running into others, or getting stuck in line once he has finished getting everything.

Oil and flour are the next non-perishables that come to mind, and with his hands still feeling slightly chilled, he is not looking forward to touching anything cold for at least a few more minutes. He fetches them rather easily, picking a larger bag of flour to use for multiple things - pancakes, waffles, syrup, breading… It will last the whole of his vacation, most likely, if they eat something different each day, or if Slaine does not have a particular liking to anything Inaho has in mind to cook… He might need to come back twice more to replenish their food stock, depending on how much they eat, though it seems an easy enough trip to do on his own, if Slaine were busy with the bookshop.

A few short minutes later, he ends up with nearly everything he had intended on buying, leaving just the dairy items; it is a quick trip, and even after walking throughout the whole story, he supposes the trip took perhaps twenty minutes or so.

Walking back to the front of the store, where the checkout is, he takes his place in a short line.

The cashier leans forward and the two lock gazes. Alongside the cashier’s green eyes, her magenta hair is poorly kept back by hairpins. She squints when realizing Inaho is not one of her regular customers. “You. You’re not from here.”

“Rayet!” a customer ahead of Inaho exclaims. “Goodness…” The elderly woman, wearing a dark blue peacoat, smiles and pats his shoulder. “I’m sorry young man. She means well but…” She adjusts her matching spectacles; she smiles. “Goodness, a visitor? What brings you to the countryside? Have you found lodging at the Wren?”

Inaho blinks at the touch, gazing at her, quiet for a moment. “Vacation,” he says, just as he had told the clerk, “I’m staying with an acquaintance of mine that lives here.”

“Acquaintance you say? Mazuurek? Harklight?” the elderly customer asks, guessing in the dark Inaho’s acquaintance. “Quite the drive for an acquaintance, wouldn’t you say? Or…!” She chuckles; her smile becomes more mischievous, “You wouldn’t be here for Lemrina or Femieanne?”

 _None of those names even sound remotely familiar other than the clerk’s…_ Inaho cannot help but think, frowning somewhat. “Slaine,” he answers, “I’m visiting Slaine Troyard.”

The smile disappears from the old woman’s face just as the cashier leans back, her complexion turning pale. A customer behind Inaho laughs, someone with a bowl cut and holding items presumably for breakfast; he approaches Inaho. “You’re better off camping in that car than spend a fortnight at Troyard’s. Else you may find yourself anemic and comatose.” he taunts.

Inaho feels his frown deepen at the comment, not having the slightest idea of what they are talking about. “Are you trying to imply he’s a vampire?” he questions, unsure of where the accusation would even come from. Slaine is pale, yes, but he does not give off the visage of death.

The customer’s smile only grew. “Haven’t you heard about the town mayor’s dau-…”

“Trillram, enough. Do you want their watchdog on your tail again?” Rayet interrupts. “Now Mrs. Magbaredge, your total is $29.13.” She informs and packs the items into a reusable bag.

The elderly customer looks at Inaho for another moment before paying Rayet and taking her bag. “Thank you dear and young man, do be careful.” She cordially smiles and waves, taking her leave.

Inaho takes his spot once the older woman leaves, and gives the cashier a slightly unamused look, turning his head to glance toward the other customer. The air feels tense, now, with the cashier telling the customer off, and he is unsure what to think of the older woman’s comments; they did not seem to be jokes, more serious sounding than what the person with the bowlcut had said. Starting to unload his cart, he remains quiet at first, until he catches the cashier’s eyes. “Is that the kind of thing you should be telling visitors?” he asks.

“We don’t get a lot of tourists but we don’t need  _that_  kind of publicity if you catch my drift, visitor.” Rayet hints. She stares for a moment to see if Inaho catches on while she scans the barcodes of his items.

“I’m not sure anyone would be interested in hearing rumors regarding a resident of a small town. Especially if they don’t sound true,” he murmurs.

Rayet huffs with a smile, trying to not chuckle while working. “The last group of tourists that came were involved with Troyard. Get the picture? Our town is fine without the conspiracies or supernatural hoaxes.”

“I’m not the type to spread  _gossip_ ,” Inaho says, frowning again at her.

“Pleasure doing business with you. $32.91,” Rayet nods.

The automatic doors open to which Trillram berates, “And speak of the devil!”

Slaine walks in and waves, taking some of Kaizuka’s grocery bags. “Almost made it.” He sheepishly smiles. “I was hoping I could meet you before you checked out to help foot the bill.” He blatantly ignores Trillram.

“It’s fine,” Inaho murmurs, “Think of my cooking for you as payment for you showing me around.” With some of the burden of the bags lifted, he fishes through his pockets for his keys again, walking past Slaine and toward the car.

“I’ll do my best.” Slaine loads the car when Inaho opens the trunk. “How was the selection in the store? Small I presume?”

“Small, yes,” Inaho answers, depositing his own share of the bags before shutting the trunk and quickly letting himself into the car, breathing out softly. “You’re done with sending out the packages, then? Back to the apartment?”

Slaine follows suit into entering Inaho’s car. “Yes. I imagine you’d want to put away the groceries.”

“Yes. Even if it’s cold outside, they shouldn’t remain in the car…” And with that, Inaho turns the heater up again, remaining motionless for a few moments to allow the car to heat back up again, “Nor should I keep you any longer from your job.”

He blushes and shakes his head.  _Kaizuka is really considerate._ “It's all right. The only urgent responsibility I have at the store is sending out the shipping confirmations. The store won't close overnight.”

Inaho only hums at that, nodding somewhat as he starts to pull out of the parking lot, casting one last glance at the store. “I think, for today, that’s enough wandering around town.”

“Too cold for you?” Slaine teases.

“Freezing.”

* * *

 

By the time Inaho looks at the clock again, it is nearly eleven. They had arrived at the apartment awhile ago, and Slaine had helped him put away the groceries before returning back downstairs to mind the shop. With the pantry now almost completely full, they have far more to choose from and Inaho will not have to worry about improvising or substituting ingredients when it comes to making meals.

With the time between then and now, Inaho had retrieved the books Slaine allowed him to borrow, and started to read through some of them, taking notes on his tablet. They are all rather old, much like the books Slaine sells and the ones Inaho has bought - the ones he assumes are not for sale are a bit older, however, with yellower pages and slightly more worn bindings. Despite that, they are still in good shape - the books do not seem to be at risk of falling apart unless Inaho is  _too_ rough with them, but considering they may be part of Slaine’s own personal collection…

 _Well, it would be be rude of me not to treat them with care, after he let me borrow them with almost no questions asked,_ he figures. It is only right he treat them with the utmost care. The books in his own care, while in good shape, have folded pages, highlighted sections, and notes scribbled in the margins, an easier way to keep track of all the notes he has to make when researching and studying, rather than keeping them elsewhere.

The events of earlier today keep trickling into his thoughts in spite of the studying, his inability to push them away becoming more and more apparent as he pauses and spaces out, unable to completely focus on the book’s contents.

Curiosity is a dangerous thing.

And in such a small town, where presumably mostly everyone knows their neighbors… it can get out of hand rather easily. To incur such hostility, such caution toward someone who seemingly poses no threat nor exude any ill feeling…  _Something must’ve happened,_ he tells himself.

Something must have happened, even if it was not Slaine’s fault. An incident that he was involved in, an accident…  _Something_ must have gone wrong somewhere, somehow, for them to talk of him the way they do.

Shutting the books, Inaho sits up a bit on his borrowed bed, and turns off his tablet, gaze flickering toward the window.

It is almost lunchtime, but he does not feel hungry - he assumes his host feels the same way, after basically admitting to not eating all that much. He is not hungry, but he is starting to feel a bit cold again, with his hands uncovered and a woollen cap absent from his head.

Coffee will do, until he starts to prepare lunch in perhaps another two hours. Slaine drank coffee this morning, and at the café, though he had not seen  _how_ Slaine had taken his coffee.  _Black,_ he supposes,  _will do for now._

* * *

 

The door downstairs opens. “Morning Slaine,” the arrival greets and walks up closer to the staircase.

“Harklight,” Slaine identifies. He puts his current book down. “Nice of you to drop by. Is there something I can help you with?”

Harklight places a coffee drink and a paper bag onto the counter. “A snack, as prescribed by Mister Saazbaum,” he informs.

Slaine grumbles. “Harklight… I’m fine.” He pauses. “ _Really,”_  he emphasizes. He squints his eyes at Harklight, but deep down knew the tall former classmate had long made his own conclusions.

Harklight crosses his arms, not at all amused.

The coffee mugs feel warm and heavy in Inaho’s hands, and he wonders for a short moment if he should allow the content inside to cool. It does not take him long at all to decide against the notion, figuring that although Slaine is used to the weather, a warm drink will not do any harm.

Coffee is best drunk warm, anyway. There is little merit to  _iced_ coffee.

Slowly making his way out the kitchen and toward the staircase, he is careful not to stumble or spill any of the beverage - hot as it is, it will  _burn_ if he gets it on his feet, despite them being covered with socks. Inaho descends the staircase, pace slowing further upon hearing an unfamiliar voice at the bottom of the stairs.  _A customer?_ he wonders, continuing on. Customer or not, surely Slaine will not mind the slight interruption; Inaho does not plan on intruding or interfering in such a way to cause a disruption. “Slaine,” he calls when he reaches the last step, “I made you… some…”

Inaho’s voice trails off as he gazes at the young man at the counter.

Harklight wears a navy winter coat with a maroon knit scarf and has a beige messenger bag across his shoulder. His obsidian hair and eyes remains fixed on Slaine who crumbles under Harklight’s unyielding, judgmental stare.

“Are you  _really?_ ” Harklight confidently smiles. “What did you eat for dinner last night? Another meal at the cafe?”

Slaine bites his lower lip.  _Harklight… why do you wound me so where it counts_ … _!_ He cringes. “… For… the… most part…”

“Most part?” Harklight’s confidence is shaken, even more so when seeing a stranger at the landing. He reaches for his messenger bag. “Who are you?”

“Who… are… you?” Slaine repeats. He follows Harklight’s gaze and stands up from his chair. “Ah! Kaizuka!” Slaine looks back and forth from Harklight and Kaizuka. “I apologize. Harklight, this is Kaizuka Inaho and uhm… Kaizuka, Harklight.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Inaho says, though his tone is devoid of the usual warmth that comes with the saying. Walking toward the counter, he places one of the mugs down, and grasps his own with both of his hands, gaze flickering upward to meet Harklight’s eyes. “If it’s food you’re concerned about, I made him dinner last night. And breakfast this morning.”

“Sorry… to have imposed…” Slaine mumbles and shrinks back into his seat.  _I am a terrible host…_  As he sits back at the counter, he sees the mug and smells the aroma of the freshly brewed coffee. He also sees next to it, the coffee Harklight had brought alongside a paper bag containing the one sandwich Slaine has managed to stomach since his decreasing appetite occurred.

“It’s fine,” Inaho murmurs, “Like I said. Payment for showing me around and allowing me to stay here.” He starts to slowly drink his own coffee, gaze lingering on the young man.  _A friend, then. Not a customer._

Harklight cautiously removes his hand from his messenger bag but still stares at Inaho, only momentarily to see what Inaho was looking at. “To stay here…?” Harklight repeats, uncertain he heard right.

Slaine takes the bag after sipping the coffee Kaizuka brought downstairs. “Yes. He is visiting.”  _Ah just how I like it._  He smiles after a sip only to take another.  _These two really know the perfect time for coffee. So rejuvenating._

“I do not recall you mentioning a friend was coming by,” Harklight mumbles.

“He decided at the drop of the hat,” Slaine supplies without a second thought.

‘ _Friend’,_ Inaho notes. Slaine neither refuted nor agreed to the statement. “I came on my own volition. Without notifying him,” he clarifies, “Slaine said it would be nice to vacation here.” Though whether or not that is true, remains to be seen, after this morning’s… interesting conversation.

“Is that so, Slaine?” Harklight asks.

The shopkeeper sighs in relief, placing the emptied mug on the table and moving to unraveling what is inside the paper bag. “Yes and the spare bedroom is not currently in use so…-”

“Slaine…” Harklight groans. “My lord…” He covers his face with his left hand.

Slaine unwraps the sandwich, notoriously and infamously overfilled with jam. Before biting down, he pouts playfully. “Harklight… He was going to camp in his car overnight otherwise. Although amusing, it would be poor manners as a member of our town.”

Harklight withdraws his hand. His lips forms a straight line. “Yes… that is true.” He walks up to Kaizuka and offers his hand to shake, “Welcome to our town, Kaizuka. Thank you for taking care of Slaine.”

Slaine chokes on the sandwich momentarily upon hearing such words.

“… you’re welcome,” Inaho returns, tightening his grasp on his mug with one hand, and taking Harklight’s own in his now free one, “Thank you for being so inviting.”

Harklight sympathetically, tiredly looks at Kaizuka. Slaine places the sandwich down on the crumpled paper bag, swallowing his wholesome bite.  _Harklight definitely begs to differ…_ he infers.

“… I’ll be going back to the room, then,” Inaho murmurs, grasping his mug with both hands again, gaze lingering on Harklight for a few moments more, before he settles his eyes on Slaine. “I hope you liked the coffee,” he says simply, “I’m glad you didn’t spit it out in surprise, again.” And with that, he slowly starts to make his way back upstairs.

Slaine turns red. Harklight raises an eyebrow. “Spit it out…?”

After another bite, Slaine stands up and retrieves his coat from the back of his chair. “Can I leave the store in your hands for an hour Harklight?”

Harklight nods and removes his messenger bag. “Yes. I assume you'll finish your sandwich when you return?”

Slaine already makes his way to the door and smiles. “Thank you Harklight, and of course!”

Eagerly, Slaine leaves his bookstore and adjusts his coat on himself. At first his pace is quick, making his way down the street turning down a few blocks later - it was a route he knew like the back of his hand. A few more steps and he is back in his old neighborhood. The store buildings are now behind him and in their place are tall trees and houses of old, from an era long past - colonialism, transcendentalism.

Passing one of the houses, Slaine rests his hands at the top of the picket fence and hops his finger in between each picket while he heads for the neighboring house - a house with a far more grand fence. The fence is ornate, tall and metal - metal well taken care of to avoid rust - and a fence gated and locked. It is at the entrance, Slaine’s pace reaches an abrupt and final stop. He frowns as he finds the doorbell but hesitates to consider ringing.

 _They don’t want me here…_  Slaine knows yet feels he should be there, antsy, anxiously so. He peers past the fence, towards the mansion a ways down the dirt path and at the second floor balcony. One of the doors is left open and the white curtain dances in the wind.  _Seylum’s,_ Slaine recognizes _._ He grasps his fingers and waits to see. He no longer could visit. There was nothing he could do much like the others - the doctors, their friends and family. All they could do was hope and wait. Wait for her to open her eyes.

Slaine holds his breath as he sees a familiar figure pull back the curtain and walk out. A small girl walks forward. She too sees Slaine and as expected, an upright, profound frown takes residence of her face.

“Eddelrittuo…” Slaine mumbles. He pleas and clasps his hands, praying upward.

And as if she could answer his prayers, she sighs and shakes her head before retreating back into the room.

His hands fall to his sides and he turns around, making his slow way back.  _Still no change._

* * *

 

Harklight frowns at the unfinished sandwich. “If only he wasn't lying…” Looking under the table, Harklight could see yesterday's unfinished food. Slaine had yet to realize.

He retrieves the trash, leaves it next to the counter and heads upstairs.

Inaho is quiet in the kitchen, refilling his mug with some more coffee to keep him satiated before he returns to the spare room to continue studying. Once he has poured his fill, he starts to turn to leave, stopping when he meets Harklight’s eyes.

“Pardon my intrusion,” Harklight says. He opens the pantry and retrieve a few garbage bags.

“It’s fine,” Inaho murmurs, watching him curiously. Remaining still, he starts to sip again from his mug, lowering it upon not seeing Slaine follow up the stairs after him. “Are you… cleaning up for him?” he questions, noting how despite the apartment seems dusty and littered with books, it is not exactly  _dirty_. Just messy.

Harklight chuckles. “It's trash day,” he elaborates, “and I'm sure he has forgotten.” With the trash bags in hand, he enters the kitchen. “Kaizuka was it? You wouldn’t by chance be… the customer often asking about science books?”

“I am,” Inaho says, raising an eyebrow.  _So he’s talked about me, then?_

“I thought the name was familiar.” He opens the refrigerator and is surprised. “Did he really eat breakfast? Dinner?  _Entirely?”_

“Yes,” Inaho answers, “Though he implied he didn’t eat normal sized meals. Does he usually not finish?”

Harklight nods and closes the refrigerator door. He faces Kaizuka and ponders, as if something was on the tip of his tongue.

“What?” Inaho asks, blunt.

He exhales and crosses his arms, dropping the garbage bag next to his right leg. “I’ve been entrusted by Slaine’s uncle to keep an eye out for him… so I must ask what brings a mere customer to a bookkeeper’s house?”

“Curiosity,” Inaho answers honestly, “Other than the cold, Slaine’s praise made this seem like an ideal place for vacation. And seeing the place where I buy my books has been… interesting.”

Harklight’s expression sours. “Slaine isn’t for someone’s amusement.”

“I never said he was,” Inaho murmurs, “Though I’m not sure the other people who live here share that sentiment.”

“So… you’ve heard some of it then.”

“It was the very first thing I heard, actually,” Inaho says, “I’m not sure telling people that a resident of the town is a ‘vampire’ is a good idea.”

“Trillram…” Harklight covers his face. “They’re not necessarily wrong… it was a Halloween costume Slaine was wearing when it happened…” He sighs and takes back the garbage bag. “You are reasonable so I trust… you have no ill intentions with Slaine?” Harklight looks at Kaizuka in the eye.

“If you’re trying to ask whether or not I’m going to  _do_ something to him, the answer is ‘no’,” Inaho says simply, shaking his head. He cannot fault Harklight for asking; Calm surely would have asked the same question, though in a different manner with different intentions.

Harklight smiles, relieved to hear that, and empties the kitchen trash. “Slaine likes strawberries but is not averse to anything in particular. He just has not been able to stomach much since last October.” Lifting the filling garbage Harklight heads down the corridor.

“Noted,” Inaho mumbles, watching as the other leaves before returning to his room.  _Slaine likes strawberries and hasn’t eaten much since last October,_ he thinks to himself,  _A full year. So something_ **did** _happen to make them react like that._

Once done with taking out the trash, Harklight makes his way around to the front of the building and sees Slaine about to enter the store. Slaine sees Harklight and pales. “Trash day,” Slaine now remembers.

“Taken care of.” Harklight follows Slaine inside where he retrieves his messenger bag. He hesitates as Slaine removes his jacket and resumes his place at the counter. “How is she?”

Slaine shook his head. “Same as before…” he answers regretfully and tries to smile, even if forced. “I’m sure she’ll wake up soon though.”  _She has to,_ he tells himself, trying to reassure his worried self.

Harklight smiles sadly at Slaine’s attempt to be strong. “Yes. It is only a matter of time before she wakes up, Slaine,” he reassures.

The bookkeeper looks up and much to his chagrin, Harklight pats and messes up his hair. “Harklight!” he growls.

“Going, going. Don’t forget your sandwich.” Harklight waves as he departs from the store.

* * *

 

Once Harklight had left the upstairs apartment, and presumably the bookstore itself, Inaho allowed himself to eat a light lunch after finishing a few more pages’ worth of notes. Given Harklight had brought Slaine a sandwich… he decided against any unnecessary cooking, and had kept things simple.

Initially, it had seemed as if him being here would prove a problem, but… it seems as if his presence will at least alleviate some worry when it comes to Slaine’s  _minder_ , even if it is only for a little while. The effect of his presence on the other residents, however… Judging by how they reacted - though it is none of their business - perhaps word of him staying with ‘Slaine Troyard’ has already spread a bit more than it should have.

It is almost dinnertime when Inaho leaves the spare room again, taking the time to stretch his legs and head back downstairs, though he does not go all the way to the counter this time. Lingering on the steps, he calls, “Slaine?”

There is no reply.

Walking down the next few steps, Inaho blinks in surprise upon seeing that the chair behind Slaine’s counter is empty. Slaine  _had_ been at the desk, but not for quite some time. The sandwich remains untouched and unfinished alongside a novel, whose pages dance in an unnatural breeze.

Inaho touches the counter with his fingertips, only to retract them.  _Cold. Cold to the touch._ He frowns. He shakily breathes only for his frown to deepen even more at the sight of his very breath.

The wooden floor creaks, catching Inaho's attention to raise his head from the unoccupied counter. “Slaine?” he asks again.

Something had moved at the corner of his sight, something at the far side of the bookstore, close to the front. Inaho slowly walks down the aisle, noting the rather vintage lamps on either side abnormally dim, pulsating rather too rhythmic for his liking.

At the end of the aisle and facing the door, Inaho finds nothing out of the normal. If anything, Inaho can see that it has become late with the sun setting, albeit obscured by the tall pine trees in the distance.

“St… Stone… ma…” Someone mumbles, almost as if right next to Inaho's ear.

Inaho turns to his left, stepping back when seeing the magazine stand levitate up and shake. Cautiously he approaches the magazine stand and peeks into the adjacent aisles, leading toward the other wall of bookstore. He freezes when the magazine crashes back onto the floor. What he had seen earlier jumps from the far end aisle and snaps the magazine stand. Black. Thorny. Grim.

 _A vine?_ Inaho ponders, watching it slither back whence it came. He resumes his approach, more careful than before to look down the last aisle.

There, many of its sort dance in midair, unraveling so often and slashing away at the nearby shelves. In the center of the entanglement, Slaine knelt on the floor and covers his ears. Each vine tries to touch Slaine only to petrify and disintegrate into glowing dust.

It was Slaine who had muttered earlier, Inaho realizes. His host desperately mutters repeatedly something yet he is unable to decipher. The spinning vines created the unnatural breeze which had grown stronger and louder since he arrived.

“Slaine…-” Inaho calls but clenches his teeth. A vine snaps back at him, pushing him away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday, Orange! :)

**Author's Note:**

> We will update once a month when there is an update available. No update means the chapter isn't ready yet!


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